


You are the sky (where I learned to fly)

by ca_te



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ca_te/pseuds/ca_te
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine have been living together and growing side by side since  they were kids and  Burt found Blaine on the street, bleeding and broken, and "fixed" him. They work in Burt's automail workshop and when a national contest for inventors and mechanics is announced they decide to participate. Their project is really ambitious, though...A story about love and...wings</p>
            </blockquote>





	You are the sky (where I learned to fly)

**Author's Note:**

> I do not take credit for the whole automail stuff - I took inspiration from Fullmetal Alchemist and the invention of automails belong to the author of FMA.
> 
> There are so many people I want to thank for making this possible! This story wouldn't be here without them.
> 
> First of all a big thank you goes to my artist, [Playlist](http://magicalplaylist.tumblr.com/), not only because her art was beautiful and inspired me to write my first steampunk fic ever, but also because she supported me and proof-read the story and offered helpful tips. Thank you so much, darling <3
> 
> Then there's [Emily](http://klaineharmony.tumblr.com/), because she is one of my best friends and one of the best betas I've ever had the pleasure to work with. Thank you for brainstorming with me, checking my wobbly grammar and for the wonderful and kind support, honey!
> 
> [Vikki](http://agent-girlsname.tumblr.com/), because she was my second beta and an awesome cheerleader. It truly meant the world to me to have you by my side on this adventure, bb!
> 
> And then my brain-twin and soulmate [Hanna](http://alianne.tumblr.com/), because truly this whole story wouldn't exist without her. She took me by the hand when I wasn't sure about it and she helped me overcoming my writing blocks. She is kind of my muse and to have her by my side never fails to make writing so much more fun. I love you, bb <3

 

__

_  
_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_

_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

 

**1**

**Of lost birds and fixed hearts**

 

The windowpane rattles as the first morning train leaves Lima’s station, headed towards the Capital. Kurt blinks his eyes open. The room is immersed in milky light; it must be only a little after dawn. His cheek hurts from where it has been pressed against the wooden surface of the table, his fingers are smudged with ink, and his whole back feels like it is about to snap. He must have fallen asleep while working, again. Slowly, Kurt straightens himself, arms stretched above his head. He didn’t take off his working goggles and those surely have chafed his skin.

 

He turns around, certainto find Blaine curled in the old armchair by the hearth. As expected, he spots an unruly mop of black curls. Kurt walks over to check the drip-feed attached to Blaine’s tanned arm. He was the one who taught Blaine how to slip in the needle before he went to bed at night. At first Blaine was so afraid that Kurt had to be the one to do it for him. Blaine used to watch him wide-eyed, azure lines glowing brighter on his childish face. Kurt learned long ago the intricate map of veins on the inside of Blaine’s arms and wrists.

 

Yesterday night, Kurt told Blaine to go up to their room to sleep, that he didn’t need to wait up, but Blaine doesn’t like to sleep alone. He says the bed seems too big without Kurt there, too vast, like the surface of some unknown planet. Kurt always tells him he shouldn’t feel that way, because he is there, always there. Still, he gets what Blaine means.

 

They have been sleeping together since they were kids. Blaine was skinny and too small for his age when he arrived at the Hummels’, but he braved the corridor separating his room and Kurt’s nevertheless, drip-feed dragging on the wooden floor behind him. It was unsettling at first. Kurt had never been used to having other people so close, except for his dad. The first night Kurt felt the mattress dip and almost hit Blaine right in the face. He wanted to yell at him, but he took a good look at Blaine. He was glowing a faint blue in the darkness of the room, and he looked so scared and so small. Kurt took hold of one of his hands and helped him under the covers. The following morning he woke up early to make breakfast as usual and found he couldn’t because Blaine had draped himself over him during the night, the drip tangled around their wrists. Kurt didn’t want to wake Blaine up, considering he was still recovering from the surgery, so he remained there, listening to Blaine’s regular breath until Burt came to look for him. They were both scolded over breakfast, but that didn’t stop Blaine from knocking softly on Kurt’s door the next night and the one after that.

 

Kurt lets his fingers sink into the soft tangle of Blaine’s hair. He can feel Blaine pushing up slightly against his hand, like a cat. The concentric circles on Blaine’s right cheek pulsate with azure light. Sometimes when Kurt looks at him like this it feels as though the sky might be hidden inside of Blaine’s body. Breathing within him. Smiling softly, Kurt reaches for the drip and slips the needle out.

 

“Mmm, Kurt.”

 

“Shhh, it’s still early. You can rest a bit more.”

 

Blaine shifts and paper sheets filled with sketches fall on the carpet. Pavarotti chirps in his cage and Kurt turns.

 

“Good morning to you too, Pav.”

 

~*~

 

_It was Blaine who found the canary, one day down by the river. He came back home with his trousers covered in mud and his hands cupped around the small yellow thing. Burt had grumbled about having animals in a house which they were struggling to keep decent anyway, with bits of metal, working tools and artificial limbs cramming almost every available surface. Kurt had looked at Blaine, standing there, his eyes impossibly huge. He knew Blaine didn’t like broken things, things forgotten and ruined. That’s why he tried hard to learn all he could from Burt, why he struggled so much to get better._

 

_Once, when Kurt was thirteen and Blaine twelve, Blaine got a bad fever. He spent entire days in bed, buried under the covers. The fever was so high he often hallucinated, and both Burt and Kurt were worried sick. Because of what they had done to fix him after they had found him in the street – huddled against a wall, his lips cracked and marred with dried blood – Blaine didn’t exactly work as the average human being did, and they didn’t know if such a high temperature would endanger him. One night Kurt was sitting on the bed, right next to Blaine, ready to keep his arms and legs down if he started to thrash around. “I don’t want to be broken”- Blaine said, his voice barely a whisper, like silk sliding on wood. Kurt pushed back sweaty curls from his forehead._

 

_“You are not going to be broken ever again,” Kurt said, his voice breaking at the edges. He meant it; he would never let someone hurt Blaine again._

 

_“You’ll always be here to fix me, right?”_

 

_Kurt pressed a soft kiss to Blaine’s cheek. “Always, I promise.”_

 

_With Blaine’s raspy whispers fresh in his mind Kurt cornered Burt and asked him to, please, let them keep the bird. They would be the ones to take care of it, and it was so small it wouldn’t create any problem. Black curls tickled Kurt’s cheek when Blaine hugged him hard, a string of “thankyouthankyouthankyou” stumbling past his lips after Kurt had told him Burt had given them permission to keep it._

 

_That night they were sitting on Kurt’s bed, the bird safely nested into an old cage Burt found in the basement. “You should be the one to name it!” - Blaine looked at him expectantly, eyes wide and eyelashes impossibly long._

 

_Kurt could never say no to Blaine when he wore that expression, making Kurt’s heart flutter against his ribcage. “What about Pavarotti? Like the opera singer.”_

 

_Blaine nodded, curls bouncing and grin as bright as the sun._

 

~*~

 

Kurt pets Pav’s little head before making his way towards the door. It is easier said than done, considering the sheer amount of paper, books, clogs, and old Lima Bean cups scattered all around. Kurt has always liked tidiness. It makes things easier to deal with, to control. He knows he developed this need for order after his mom died. Kurt had been barely eight, and he had wanted desperately to stop feeling as though the whole world was tilting out of axis and tumbling over the edge. Order was good - tidying up his mother’s things, putting away his dad’s utensils every night after he closed the workshop - it all helped somehow. Then Blaine rushed into his and Burt’s lives and it made order a bit harder to maintain.

 

After having almost tripped on a crate filled up with old projects, Kurt manages to reach the door and step into the corridor. The pendulum clock says it is 5:30 am, and the kitchen is cold when he gets there. After having lit the fire, Kurt busies himself with breakfast. It was his mom who taught him how to cook. He remembers Sunday afternoons spent baking simple scoones or small apple pies with her. She always was so patient, her hands warm as she helped him baking. When Blaine sufficiently recovered from surgery, he trailed after Kurt wherever the older boy went and whatever he did. Blaine didn’t talk much, and Kurt thought teaching him how to cook and bake could be a good beginning. He still remembers how happy Blaine was when Burt complimented him on the the first batch of cinnamon cookies he had made all on his own.

 

“Good morning.” Blaine’s voice is still a bit raw from sleep, his hair tousled. Kurt puts the kettle on and turns, a smile blossoming on his lips. There’s nothing that comes as naturally to him as smiling at Blaine.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Blaine makes his way towards him and hugs him. Kurt presses a kiss to his temple.

 

“Have you slept well?” Kurt asks.

 

“I always do when you’re close.”

 

Kurt hugs him a bit tighter; Blaine’s breath is warm against his neck.

 

“I think I dreamed about that hydraulic pumping system we talked about yesterday.”, Kurt says.

 

Blaine chuckles and Kurt can feel the vibrations of it down to his toes. He shies away from other people’s touches, but with Blaine Kurt craves the proximity. He likes to feel Blaine’s chest rise and fall against his own. It’s as though he needs to feel that Blaine is alive. Alive and his.

 

“You’re insane, you know, babe?”

 

“Oh, but you love it.”

 

Blaine grins and brushes the tips of their noses together. “That I do. And we need all of your genial insanity to win this contest.”

 

Kurt leans forward and kisses him, soft and closemouthed. It has been a year and yet he feels dizzy with the knowledge he can. He can kiss Blaine, touch him, whisper “I love you” against his breastbone as they lie together - legs tangled and heads on the same pillow. They have grown up together, always around each other.

 

~*~

 

_Blaine was there for Kurt when the other village kids started to tease him, shoving him around because he was “such a violet.” When Kurt didn’t want to tell Burt, Blaine was the one who stood up for him and got a black eye out of it. Quiet, kind Blaine, who loved to sing and convinced Kurt to sing along with him. Sweet Blaine who took Kurt by the hand and led him up the hill, under the willow tree, and told him he liked boys. Kurt was fourteen, and he hugged Blaine tight, whispering that everything was going to be all right because they were together and the world couldn’t change who they were._

 

_The first memory Kurt has of Blaine is Blaine lying on his dad’s bed, an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. Burt had started teaching him the basics of artificial limbs and organs, but when he had brought Blaine back home he hadn’t wanted Kurt to be with him in the operating room. When Kurt saw Blaine he was asleep, his chest bandaged and a drip attached to his arm. Sometimes Kurt wonders if that is the reason why, once he got over the fact Blaine was going to live with them from then on, he became fiercely protective of him. They had each other’s backs and that was all that mattered. It was like having a loving and smart younger brother._

 

_One day at the beginning of summer, everything changed. Blaine had turned fourteen a few days before, and Kurt had promised him he would take him out of town for a day, away from machines and from narrow and grey streets. Work had been hard and too busy for them to wander farther than the river to take a swim now and then. They left home early and started off in the direction of the hills. Blaine whistled by Kurt’s side, stopping every once in awhile to pick a flower or an herb he recognized from the old botanical book he had been reading._

 

_It took them a couple of hours of walking, and a good rest by a small stream, to get to the top of McKinley Down. The valley trembled in the warm air, at their feet for once._

 

_“Don’t you feel good when you’re up here?”_

 

_Blaine was standing with his arms open wide. The breeze tugged loosely at his shirt. He made Kurt think of a beautiful bird ready to take flight. The tug of his heart scared Kurt. The thought of Blaine spreading his wings and not coming back left a bitter aftertaste at the back of his mouth. It made him want to reach over, take hold of Blaine’s hand and never let go. Quickly, he averted his gaze and focused on opening his backpack._

 

_“What are you doing?”_

 

_“Giving you your present. You didn’t think I would forget about it, did you?”_

 

_Blaine’s cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes wide. “I...of course...”_

 

_He was adorable and Kurt couldn’t help but chuckle, “Close your eyes.”_

 

_Blaine did as he was told, and Kurt carefully unfolded the kite he had made with one of Burt’s old working shirts. He watched as Blaine’s fingers closed around it, testing and prodding already._

 

_“You can open them now.”_

 

_Kurt’s chest wasn’t big enough to contain his heart as it dilated at the sight of Blaine’s blossoming smile._

 

_“Kurt! This is...I...”_

 

_“Try it.”_

 

_As he sat on the grass, watching Blaine watching the kite in the breeze, Kurt realized the depth of his affection for Blaine. There might have been signs - like when Blaine shifted against him in his sleep and made Kurt’s heart beat a little bit faster, or the way Kurt had started to notice the soft plushness of his lips - but watching the sun caressing Blaine’s face, his heart twisted in an unmistakable way. Kurt fisted his hands by his side, grasping at blades of grass._

 

_“Come here. You should try it too!”_

 

_Kurt contemplated saying no, but Blaine smiled at him and tilted his head towards the wide sky, and Kurt couldn’t do anything but stand up and walk over to him. Blaine handed Kurt the handle and covered Kurt’s hand with his own. Kurt lost track of time as he looked at the kite above their heads and listened to Blaine’s breathing._

 

~*~

 

“Can I have eggs today?”

 

Kurt looks at Blaine from over his shoulder. He is sitting at the kitchen table, grinning.

 

“I’m spoiling you way too much.”

 

Blaine fakes a pout and, as always, it makes Kurt want to kiss him. Sometimes he thinks it is a miracle he even manages to get some work done.

 

“I need all the energy to work on our project.”

 

Kurt shakes his head, but reaches for the eggs anyway. He’ll make sure to make some fruit salad for his dad. The fear and the pain from the time when Burt was ill are still fresh, and if there’s something Kurt is sure of, it is that he doesn’t want to feel like that ever again.

 

As he scrambles the eggs, Blaine hums softly, one of those old songs they found in one of the music sheets that had once belonged to Kurt’s mom. Kurt lets his mind wander back to their project, his fingers moving effortlessly on their own. It isn’t easy; they have chosen the hard road. Inventors and mechanics from all over the state will participate in the contest, and they only have a month left before the travel to the Capital. But as Burt always tells them, “go big or go home”. They need the money, and Kurt knows he and Blaine together can do great things.

 

~*~

 

_Over time, Kurt grew attached to the boy his father fixed. When Blaine was strong enough to move around the house, he would spend a lot of time next to Kurt in the workroom. One day Kurt offered to teach Blaine how to repair an old mechanic clock._

 

_There were only a couple of cogs to be put back in place and Kurt scooted back to leave Blaine enough space. The only sound in the room was the tinkling of the screwdriver against the metal and Kurt’s directions. Blaine focused all of his attention on the cogs, his brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth. When he finished he leaned back and beamed up at Kurt, who effortlessly as breathing smiled back._

 

_Blaine was a quick learner, and by the end of the first month he knew how to fix the mechanical limbs people brought to Burt when they were broken. Kurt liked to work with him. Sitting at the table, goggles on and hands covered in oil, Kurt wasn’t lonely anymore. When one day Blaine started to sing, his voice rising clear over mismatched automail legs and dusty maps hung on the wall, Kurt almost dropped the tweezers he was holding. He spun around in his chair. Blaine was curved over a mechanical hand; he probably wasn’t even aware he was singing. Kurt cleared his throat, and Blaine stopped abruptly and lifted his head._

 

_“Don’t stop. It was beautiful.”_

 

_Blaine blinked, his eyes bigger behind the lens of his goggles._

 

_“Y-you really think so?”_

 

_“I do. You have a beautiful voice.”_

 

_Blaine’s cheeks colored and he turned to get back to work. After a few minutes he began to sing again, and Kurt smiled down at the leg he was repairing._

 

_When Burt got back home from his errands, Kurt helped him to put away the groceries and told him about his discovery. Burt ruffled his hair._

 

_“He is like one of those birds your mom loved, right? He is something special.”_

 

_Kurt nodded, storing those words away._

 

~*~

 

“I think we should smooth the metal plates more. They must be thinner.”

 

Blaine takes a sip of his tea and looks up at the ceiling as though it can give him the answer.

 

“You’re probably right.”

 

Kurt nudges Blaine’s foot under the table and grins, “I’m always right.”

 

“Now, now. Who’s getting a bit too cocky?”

 

Kurt turns to face his dad. “I wouldn’t say cocky, more like realistic.”

 

Burt huffs out a laugh and moves closer to rest a hand on Blaine’s shoulder.

 

“You’ve chosen a tough one for yourself, buddy.”

 

Blaine smiles up and him and then looks at Kurt across the table. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else.”

 

Kurt’s heart jumps, his love for the boy sitting in front of him too big to even try to contain it. I love you so much, he thinks and knows Blaine will be able to read it in his eyes.

 

“Always the gentleman.” Burt gives Blaine’s shoulder one last pat and sits down, “So, what is there for breakfast?”

 

Kurt pushes the bowl of fruit salad towards him.

 

“But he had eggs?”

 

“No buts, dad,” Kurt chuckles.

 

“Oh, Kurt you are too hard on your dad.”

 

“Careful, love, or there’ll be only fruit salad for you. For the next week.”

 

Blaine laughs, and Kurt can’t help thinking that it truly is one of the most perfect sounds in the whole world.

  
  


**2**

**Of warblers and soulmates**

 

Blaine loves walking back home in the evening after his music lessons. Now that he and Kurt have started working on the project, he can’t keep as many pupils as he usually does. Still, he didn’t want to abandon some of the younger kids. They were the ones who were eager to learn, them and Miss Beiste, who dreams of getting a husband one day and is one of the kindest people Blaine has ever met.

 

Music lessons don’t only mean a walk through the nicest part of town in the evenings, they also mean a bit of extra money.

 

~*~

 

_The day of his first lesson, Blaine was fourteen, and he ran back home with two golden coins jingling in his pockets. Burt hugged him close and told him he was proud of him. Blaine doesn’t remember much about his true parents, just blurs of hard knuckles and dull brown eyes. But he remembers every kind word and every caress from Burt._

 

_Blaine started putting the money away in a can under the bed, knowing one day it might come in handy. When he couldn’t sleep at night, he would turn  on his side and look at Kurt. Sometimes he mumbled in his sleep, small words, broken pieces of dialogues with whoever inhabited his dreams. Blaine would imagine taking his money one day and buying Kurt a beautiful present. Because Kurt was kind and brave and the most important person in Blaine’s life. He was the one who woke him when he had nightmares, the one who always had a smile to offer, the one Blaine trusted the most. That’s why he didn’t hesitate to tell Kurt he liked boys. That’s why Kurt was the first boy Blaine fell in love with._

 

_There wasn’t an exact moment; it just happened, over cogs and cups of tea and evenings spent coaxing Kurt to sing with him. It happened over the years spent growing up together - fighting and making peace and learning the world was a hard place but it was manageable if they had each other. To be honest, it was the way he felt about Kurt that made Blaine understand himself and his feelings better. It was the way Kurt’s smiles would slip under his skin and nestle underneath his heart. The way he couldn’t imagine his life without Kurt._

 

_At first Blaine almost felt guilty about it. Burt was practically a father to Blaine and had raised him and Kurt as brothers. Still, in Lima’s library there were books which talked about halves and wholes and souls meant to meet. And when Blaine thought about Kurt, the dust of those very books still on his fingertips, he knew he’d give everything to be the one who got to complete Kurt’s gorgeous soul._

 

_When he stopped by the trinket shop one spring evening, the setting sun still warm on his shoulders, he hadn’t found the courage to tell Kurt how he felt yet. But he caught sight of two matching brooches resting on a velvety cushion. They were cameos and painted on them were two wire cages holding one small bird each. Since the day he discovered Blaine could sing, Burt often called him “little bird”. Kurt never did, but Blaine didn’t miss the way he smiled a bit brighter whenever his dad used the nickname. If Blaine had to choose, he would choose to be a warbler. He loved to sing and since he had seen the first airship crossing the sky over McKinley Down he desperately wanted to fly one day. Blaine was sure it was one of the best feelings ever - being able to feel the wind keeping you up, looking down at the world and feel free. His body would stop being so heavy if he had wings._

 

_Blaine kept the brooches hidden in his drawer, underneath sweaters and shirts, for months. Until the right day came and he watched in awe as Kurt’s eyes teared up. Impossibly azure, just like the sky he wanted so badly to reach. They kissed sitting on the bedroom floor, their clothes still covered in coal dust. That day they had gone to the mines, even though they were supposed to run some errands for Burt._

 

_Finn had told Kurt about a new part of the mine they had just uncovered. He said there were blue stones that shone like stars, and Kurt had wanted to see them. Of course they had managed to get lost. It had been dark and wet down there, and Blaine’s breath had gotten lost in his lungs more than once. Kurt’s hand had never left his, holding gently but firmly. Like an anchor. Trudging over in the half light, stones like stars over their heads, Blaine had known he had to tell Kurt how he felt. There was no turning back from the way his heart was filled up to the brim with love for the boy guiding him towards the light at the end of that horrible mine. Once they had finally gotten back home, Blaine had been the one to grab Kurt’s hand and drag him up the stairs._

 

_“Iaminlovewithyou.”_

 

_Blaine’s lungs had been on fire, his heart beating erratically, reminding him of one of those broken clocks clients brought in some days. Kurt had looked at him wide-eyed, his hands curled in tight fists on his knees. For the following minutes Blaine had been terrified. Losing Kurt was something inconceivable, and Blaine would hate himself if he were to be the cause for that. Kurt stood up and his arms were firm and sure around Blaine’s neck as their lips met. Kissing Kurt was the closest to flying Blaine had ever experienced. Everything inside of him seemed to lift, winning a battle against gravity._

 

_“I love you too.”_

 

_Kurt’s breath had ghosted over Blaine’s lips and Kurt’s eyes had shone in the half-light of the room. Blaine wondered if their souls made a sound, clicking as they connected, perfectly slotted together. He gave Kurt the brooch that night and Kurt pinned the other to his still dirty shirt._

 

_“My heart is just like that bird, you know?”_

 

_Blaine brushed his fingertips over the smooth surface of the cameo. “You mean in a cage?”_

 

_He never wanted Kurt to feel that way. Never._

 

_Kurt shook his head, a smile on his lips, “I mean safe.”_

 

~*~

 

“Eureka!”

 

Blaine blinks and turns, his back protesting after all the time he has spent bent over the drawing table. Kurt rushes over, his lips soft and warm against Blaine’s forehead.

 

“I found it!”

 

Blaine leans forward, Kurt’s chest is firm against his cheek, Kurt’s fingers delicious as they card through his curls. “You mean the way to stabilize them?”

 

Kurt shifts forward to grab a pencil and Blaine scoots a bit sideways on the chair to give him space to draw.

 

“What if we add a titanium wire that goes from the tip back to the plates right over your scapulas?”

 

Blaine studies the project. They have been working on it day and night for the past two months. It was Kurt who found out about it. One day he came back from the market brandishing a bill he had torn off the wall. National Inventors Contest, it read. Kurt simply took Blaine’s hands into his and said that they could do it. Blaine had learned to believe in Kurt years and years before.

 

“I think it might work. Just...we’ll have to connect the plates with the support system.”

 

Kurt bites his lower lip, the way he does when he worries about something. Blaine knows he is the cause for that expression.

 

Artificial wings have been the dream of every inventor since the beginning of time. Blaine has read plenty about Icarus and his wings made of wax. Enough to be scared and enough to want it all. Through time men have managed to build airships and hot air balloon and zeppelins. Never proper wings. They have tried, of course, but those things were never strong enough to hold up a person without an engine. As soon as he saw the bill for the contest, Blaine knew they would win if they accomplished real wings. Kurt was smart and creative to the point Blaine wouldn’t hesitate to describe him as a genius of mechanics, and Blaine...well, he had something all those other inventors didn’t.

 

~*~

 

_Burt never made a mystery of how much Blaine’s body had changed after the surgery. When Blaine had fully recovered, Burt sat him down at the kitchen table. He scratched his head under the omnipresent cap and hand cleared his throat._

 

_“You, my boy, are lucky and very special...”_

 

_That’s how he started, and Blaine felt himself warm up from head to toe. He didn’t remember receiving praise before. Burt was patient and explained to Blaine that he was alive and breathing because part of his lungs - “those things that make you breathe, Blaine” - and of his veins were now made of metal - “like the stove?”, “No, Blaine, more like those arms you’ve seen in the workshop”. When Blaine asked him why he had to have a needle inside his arm every night and why he glowed blue, Burt reached across the table and took his small hand into his bigger and coarser one._

 

_“You see? There’s blood running inside of you, me, and Kurt. When it comes to those metal parts of you, it needs a bit of help to keep flowing. That’s why you need that every night. It’s a bit like recharging the battery of a clock.”_

 

_Burt smiled reassuringly and Blaine nodded, because he felt that was the right thing to do. He hadn’t understood everything, but Burt seemed happy with him being that way, so there shouldn’t be anything wrong with it, right?_

 

_“Good buddy. Do you want some hot chocolate?”_

 

_Blaine smiled and waited patiently for the chocolate to be ready, swinging his legs under the chair and playing scrabble with Kurt._

 

~*~

 

Blaine has thought this through. There’s not only blood flowing within him, there’s energy too. If they could tap into that, the wings could support his weight and they could actually work. The first time he talked about it with Kurt, they ended up screaming their lungs out.

 

~*~

 

_“It is such an idiotic idea, Blaine!”_

 

_“You know it’s not true. It could work. Think about it, I could fly and...”_

 

_“Or you could die! Have you even thought about it?”_

 

_“Of course I did. But this our greatest chance and...”_

 

_“And how could that be? I love you, you idiot, how could risking your loss be a great chance?”_

 

_“Kurt...you know I love you too.”_

 

_“Maybe I don’t know it. How could I when you are willing to fly away at the first occasion?”_

 

_“I would never leave you.”_

 

_“Then why do you want this so badly you would risk your life and my heart like that?”_

 

_“I just want...for once to feel light, without the weight of everything hidden inside me.”_

 

_“You’re perfect, Blaine. To me you’ll always be.”_

 

_“I know and I’m so grateful for that, love. Just...it weighs a lot, you know? These titanium bits that keep me alive. I feel them every day and...sometimes I think not even my voice is part of me? What if I can sing only because my lungs are not like those of normal people?”_

 

_“Don’t be stupid. Singing doesn’t come from the lungs, honey. It comes from your diaphragm and from your heart.”_

 

_“My heart belongs to you, though.”_

 

_“Sing for me?”_

 

_“Always.”_

 

_“And I guess...fly for me too?”_

 

~*~

 

As the time for the trial approaches, Blaine catches Kurt glancing at him with a particular look in his eyes more and more. Halfway between worry and pride. It makes Blaine’s heart beat faster, and there are days when he would like to throw away all the papers and the half-constructed wings and just hug Kurt until the end of time. At night he tangles his legs with Kurt’s, head resting on Kurt’s chest and listens to his heart thumping calmly.

 

Lately Blaine wants to touch Kurt so badly that sometimes his fingers tremble while tracing idle patterns on Kurt’s stomach. They have never done much inside the house, only when Burt isn’t around, which isn’t as often as Blaine would like. The first time Kurt shyly brushed his fingers over the outline of Blaine’s cock, it was on an afternoon at the end of summer and they were outside, hidden behind some bushes up the hill.

 

When Kurt touches him like that, his breath coming out faster and his pupils blown wide, Blaine never fails to feel as though his whole body has been filled with pure and undiluted sunshine. In those moments he knows their bodies are meant to be connected, the same way their souls do.

 

“They will be finished soon.”

 

Kurt’s voice is a whisper, his breath caressing Blaine’s skin. He thinks about the wings hung to the scaffolding in their study room. They look like the skeleton of some ancient bird. Some plates are still missing and they need to fix the hydraulic pumping so they’ll be able to move with the wind currents. To Blaine those artificial wings are indissolubly tied to what he and Kurt have - a testament to the love Kurt feels for him. Because even though Kurt is scared about what might happen, he pours everything he has into building them. For Blaine. And Blaine truly doesn’t know what he has done in his previous life to be so lucky.

 

“It’s going to be fine.”

 

Kurt’s fingers find his curls and tug gently.

 

“I hope so.”

 

Blaine can almost picture Kurt standing by his side on the top of the hill, grass high around their shins. So far Blaine has tried on the wings only once, when they had to verify if the connection with his internal energy system was possible. Blaine has never told Kurt just how much it hurt the moment the wings connected to his nervous system. It wasn’t that different from automail limbs or from the artificial bits hidden inside Blaine’s body. The pain shot up and down his spine, but he gritted his teeth to hold in the strangled sound clawing in his throat.

 

“Think about it this way, you are giving me wings, Kurt.”

 

Kurt shuffles his legs and his toes brush against Blaine’s ankle, a wave of warmth rushes through him.

 

“I just...don’t fly away, please.”

 

Blaine’s heart stutters in his chest. He lifts his head to look at Kurt in the half-light of the room; Kurt’s eyes glint in the light emanating from Blaine.

 

“I will come back to you. You...are the place where my heart is.”

 

Kurt smiles up at him. He is so breathtakingly beautiful, and Blaine does the only thing that makes sense. He kisses him. Kurt’s lips part for him, the tip of his tongue unbelievably warm. Blaine nudges Kurt’s knee with his and Kurt silently slides his legs open for Blaine to nestle between them. Blaine doesn’t even try to hold in the moan that rolls past his lips when they slot together.

 

“I want you so much it isn’t even fair.”

 

Kurt chuckles and nibbles at Blaine’s lower lip.

 

“We could be really quiet...”

 

Blaine’s whole body feels filled with liquid heath. He reaches down and slips the drip’s needle out of his arm.

 

“I like the way you think, love.”

 

Kurt lifts his hips up playfully and air stutters in Blaine’s lungs. It might have been a year since they got together, but they are still fairly new to this. To touching and licking and just feeling each other so intimately. Blaine knows he’ll never stop being amazed by how hard and smooth Kurt is, by the way his lips part around those beautiful small sounds he makes when Blaine does something right. He knows there are still things they haven’t tried out, and he also knows they are not ready for that yet. Still his bones and his blood sing to him that the right day will come and that it will be perfect, because it will be them, always them. Kurt and Blaine, Blaine and Kurt.

Blaine falls asleep sticky and content, his back pressed against Kurt’s chest, safely tucked in the curves of Kurt’s body.

  
  


**3**

**Of first flights and brave robins**

 

The day of the trial approaches way faster than Kurt would have liked. In a couple of days his boyfriend will try to do something no man has ever managed to do before. It makes the blood freeze in Kurt’s veins. He can’t lose Blaine; that is not an option. That’s why he has been working so hard, until his head hurts and his nails are blunted because of all the plates he has smoothed over and over, to be sure they are perfect.

 

He has been sitting in front of the wings for at least an hour, fixing details, just to be extra sure, when Blaine reaches for his goggles and lifts them up. Kurt blinks, coming out of his trance.

 

“Would you go out with me?”

 

“What...”

 

“I mean on a proper date. We haven’t had one of those in a while.”

 

Kurt knows Blaine is right. Working for the project has sucked up most of their time, along with work. Blaine is positively thrumming with energy, his smile wide and his eyes crinkling at the corners with it. He doesn’t even seem a creature of this world.

 

“Alright. Where do you want to go?”

 

Blaine leans forward and gives a quick peck to the tip of Kurt’s nose.

 

“What about the Lima Bean?”

 

The cosy cafè in Lima’s central square holds a special place in Kurt’s heart. That’s where Blaine took him for their first date ever.

 

.~*~

 

_Blaine pushed the door open and a bell tinkled softly over their heads. It was warm inside, the smell of coffee and chocolate rich in the air. Kurt flexed his fingers, wishing he could simply hold Blaine’s hand. Lima, though, wasn’t as friendly as the Capital when it came to those matters. That didn’t prevent him from standing closer to Blaine than absolutely necessary while they ordered their drinks._

 

_It was raining outside and the pale light painted Blaine’s features as he sat by the window. Kurt had spent years by Blaine’s side, he had looked at him countless times, and yet in that moment it felt as though he was looking at Blaine for the first time. They sipped their coffees in silence, Blaine’s eyes bright over the rim of his mug and his foot sure against Kurt’s ankle. Nothing had ever felt more right than sitting there with the boy he loved. He nibbled at his biscotti while taking in Blaine’s beauty. Something inside of him sang that this would be his only love._

 

~*~

 

“You wore that midnight blue jacket your dad had given you.”

 

Kurt blinks and takes a gulp of his non-fat mocha.

 

“I mean on our first date.”

 

That day Kurt had taken extra care with his clothes He wanted to be perfect. Once they had gotten back home, Blaine kissed him. He tasted of coffee and chocolate. It seemed like the world’s biggest gift. It still feels the same.

 

Blaine nudges his knee and Kurt smiles across the table.

 

“I love that you remember all those small details.”

 

Blaine smiles, a bit of foam caught on his upper lip.

 

“I’ll never forget those.”

 

Love rises in waves inside of Kurt, and he has to use all of his willpower not to lean over the table and kiss Blaine right in the middle of the busy cafè. Sometimes it is scary, how much Blaine means to him. Kurt is sure there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for him. And that’s also the reason why those damn wings are hung in their study room.

 

“I love you.”

 

Kurt can see the surprise on Blaine’s features. Usually he doesn’t say things like that in public. He saves them for those moments when nothing exists outside the warmth of Blaine’s arms around him, in the soft azure glow of his skin when they lay in their bed at night. But there are only ten days left for the contest, and in a couple of days they’ll be standing on top of the hill. Kurt knows he will have to watch those wings come to life, and it is so scary his blood almost freezes over because of it.

 

Blaine’s hand is warm over his, squeezing gently but firmly.

 

“Everything will be all right, babe.”

 

Kurt nods and can’t wait to be back home to pull Blaine close, to feel his body breathe and move and live.

 

~*~

 

The air is still and heavy and Kurt shifts his weight from left to right and back. There’s an itch under his skin that won’t go away. Blaine is by the cart, patting Myrtle’s snout. Kurt knows he should move and help him to unwrap the wings and get them ready. His limbs feel like lead, though, and he briefly wonders if it would be possible to sink right to the core of Earth.

 

“Will you help me here, love?”

 

Kurt closes his eyes, the wind slapping him in the face. They have come so far and there’s no way he can pull back now. Not when Blaine’s fingers are pulling at the blanket they used to cover the wings and to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.

 

“Coming.”

 

Blaine smiles, bright and excited, energy thrumming under his tanned skin. Since they were kids, Blaine has always had some kind of fascination with flight. Kurt never asked him why, because deep down he knew the reason for it. It was in the way Blaine sang to Pav, in the way he sketched small airships at the corners of his notepads. It was written in his body, broken and mended. Kurt saw it every night, the drip pumping energy into artificial veins. If possible it made him love Blaine even more.

 

Kurt focuses on the task of unknotting the rope, trying to keep his traitorous heart under control. He almost jumps when Blaine takes his hand, linking their fingers together over the uncovered metal of the wings.

 

“Look at me?”

 

Kurt considers refusing, but in the end he lifts his gaze. Blaine’s smile is smaller now, a bit more uncertain.

 

“Do you still want to do this? With me?”

 

Kurt bites down on his lower lip, hard enough for pain to spike up. Blaine’s hand tightens around his.

 

“Babe...I don’t...”

 

“I want to, sweetheart. I...I’m scared, of course I am but...”

 

Blaine’s arms are tight around him, his lips shockingly hot against the side of Kurt’s neck.

 

“Hold me?”

 

And so Kurt does, his fingers grabbing the back of Blaine’s jacket and holding tight.

 

~*~

 

“I think you can take it off now.”

 

Blaine nods and reaches for the needle, slipping it out. It was Kurt’s idea to bring the drip out here. He forced Blaine to be patient and sit under an almond tree for a little, soaking up energy.

 

The wings are heavy when Kurt lifts them and helps Blaine to put them on. He makes sure the leather of the braces isn’t too hard, and if the connection with Blaine’s internal system works, Blaine shouldn’t feel the weight at all. Kurt takes a deep breath, hoping it’ll help calm down the erratic gallop of his heart. Blaine stands impossibly still, but Kurt can feel his body shake when he slots in the connection plug. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain he is sure Blaine is feeling.

 

“Are you all right, sweetheart?”

 

Blaine nods, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. When he turns his eyes are watery. They seem made of molten gold.

 

“Yes. As long as you are here.”

 

Kurt swallows down the worry and forces a smile, his fingers careful as they trace the curve of Blaine’s cheek.

 

“Always.”

 

Blaine kisses him, quick and tender, before taking a step back. Kurt nods, just once, and watches as Blaine pulls the small copper lever, the one that will switch the hydraulic system on and make him take off. Everything inside of Kurt feels cropped together too close and too tight. He keeps his gaze focused on Blaine’s feet.He doesn’t feel strong enough to look at him in the face. Kurt’s breath catches in his throat as the sound of the metal plates moving fills his ears. Seconds tick by and nothing happens. The wings keep flapping, slowly and noisily, but Blaine’s feet remain pressed against the earth. He doesn’t know if he feels more upset or relieved. Blaine makes a small surprised sound and Kurt watches petrified as slowly his feet start to leave the ground.

 

“Babe...”

 

Kurt lifts his gaze. There are blue lines painted on Blaine’s cheeks even though he isn’t attached to the drip. His eyes are wide, his smile wild. He looks like a creature from legends, an angel fallen right into Kurt’s arms. The sun glints on the wings spread behind him, the grass bends under the breeze their movement produces. Blaine rises farther up and Kurt resists the urge to reach forward and grab his hand to pull him down again.

 

“It works!”

 

Blaine is laughing, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Kurt can feel the smile starting to pull at his own lips. In the end, Blaine’s happiness is Kurt’s own. He has realized it long ago. Since the day his dad brought an injured boy back home and  Kurt wished he believed in a god because that would mean he could have someone to pray to. He is about to answer when a scratching noise pierces the air warm air. Kurt isn’t able to tell his scream from Blaine’s, who is falling and hitting the ground, the sound of metal slamming against the soil making Kurt cringe.

 

“Blaine!”

 

A muffled moan is the only answer he gets and he is on his knees, fingers hurting as he tries to push away the plates as fast as he can. Blaine’s eyes are open, blinking slowly at the orange sky above their heads, and Kurt feels as though he is drowning in relief. There’s a cut on Blaine’s cheek, ruby red against his skin. And that’s when the anger bubbles up inside of Kurt, like boiling water. He is angry with himself because he wasn’t good enough to make this work, he is angry at Blaine’s stubbornness and at his insane desire to fly. His throat burns and Kurt fists his hands in the grass, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears.

 

“I knew we shouldn’t have done this.”

 

Blaine coughs and the wings rustles as he moves. Kurt doesn’t open his eyes.

 

“Hey, babe...”

 

“I should have known better than encouraging your stupid dreams.”

 

And Kurt is so scared, so scared of Blaine hurting himself because of his mistakes and words simply keep spilling past his lips. “I hate these stupid wings. We are never using them again.”

 

“But, love...”

 

Kurt opens his eyes and the worry on Blaine’s face makes him hurt even more.

 

“No buts. I have had enough of this nonsense. Didn’t I tell you you could hurt yourself? What if you were higher up?”

 

Blaine’s brow furrow, his eyes darker now.

 

“These are my choices, Kurt. You can’t just...”

 

“What? Worry? Drive myself mad thinking about consequences you don’t give a damn about?”

 

Blaine staggers under the weight of the wings to get back to his feet. Kurt’s legs feel heavy like stone and he remains kneeled on the ground, looking up at Blaine.

 

“Why do you have to be like this, Kurt? You...you know how much this means to me and yet...”

 

Blaine’s eyes are clearer with tears and something stutters to a stop inside of Kurt. He scrambles back on his feet, his head spins.

 

“Blaine...”

 

But Blaine shakes his head and takes a step back, the wings dragging over the grass. He looks like a lost bird.

 

“Don’t...”

 

Kurt opens and closes his mouth. There are so many things he wants to say, but nothing comes out, and Blaine curves in a bit more on himself. Kurt knows he can’t take back his words and the knowledge threatens to split him in two. Blaine turns his back to him and now more than ever he looks like one of those angels’ statues watching over Elizabeth’s grave. They have never fought much, but every time it has happened it felt a bit like losing a limb. For an instant he is about to reach forward, his fingers brushing the sharp edge of a plate. It cuts his fingertips and Kurt withdraws his hand. He leaves the cart for Blaine and makes his way down the path, his heart hanging heavy in his chest.

 

~*~

 

Blaine looks up at the stars. The air is still and it smells of dandelions and honey. A dull ache pulses in his chest, and Blaine knows he’ll have to head back home soon. Spending a night without the drip isn’t an option. It will never be. He has lifted the wings back into the cart. There isn’t any serious damage, just some dented plates and a duct of the hydraulic system to fix. Kurt’s words are still wedged as glass shards into his thoughts.

 

The stars blink down on him, cold and distant. Blaine imagines Kurt in their study room at home. He knows he’ll find him awake. He knows he’ll cry. Blaine wonders if love is supposed to feel like this. So big and so wide, defining him from the inside out. He knows Kurt reacted because the other boy worries, cares, and he loves fiercely. It still hurt and Blaine needed some time alone to let his heart breathe. When he makes his way back in town, Myrtle behind him, the moon is high and pale in the sky.

 

The house is dark and silent as Blaine quietly makes his way up the stairs. He stops in the middle of the corridor, wondering whether it would be better to sleep in his old room. In the darkness the smell of the oil Burt uses for the automail limbs twirls around Blaine, and underneath it all he can catch the soft scent of Kurt’s cologne. It feels like a caress and Blaine’s heart trembles a bit.

 

When he slips into bed, Blaine can feel Kurt’s body stiffen, and he knows Kurt is awake. The mattress feels too wide, like a sea, and Blaine squints to make out the contours of Kurt’s shoulders. He falls asleep with his fingertips tingling with the need to simply reach over and press his palm against Kurt’s back. Just to feel his heartbeat.

 

~*~

 

“I am so sorry.”

 

It is barely a whisper and Blaine grunts, hiding his face into the pillow. Something soft presses against his cheek and Blaine forces himself to blink one eye open. Kurt is looking at him, the morning light a halo around his face and down the slope of his shoulder. Blaine draws in a breath, and his outstretched arm brushes against Kurt’s chest.

 

“You cut yourself.”

 

The pad of Kurt’s thumb presses gently over a cut Blaine hadn’t realised was there. It is astounding how one simple touch does more to put him back together than the hours he spent on his own on the top of the hill last night. Words knot up inside of him; none of them is enough to convey what he is feeling.

 

Kurt’s hand slides down from Blaine’s cheek to his neck as he slides closer, his chest brushing against Kurt’s with every breath.

 

“I am never leaving you.”

 

Warmth pools at the bottom of Blaine’s stomach as Kurt’s tongue darts out to wet his lips.

 

“Just...I don’t want you to feel trapped with me.”

 

Blaine shakes his head, hand open right over Kurt’s heart.

 

“You know what they say? A little bird isn’t afraid to  learn to fly when it knows there is a nest to wait for him. You are my other half, Kurt. I’ll always come back to you. Just as you will come back to me.”

 

Kurt doesn’t answer; he simply leans forward and Blaine meets him halfway - heart beating too hard in his ears and skin on fire. Kurt’s fingers are feather-light when they slip the needle out of Blaine’s forearm; his lips trace the line of one collarbone, a warm constant press. The sheets twist between them, skin seeking skin, and Blaine has the feeling he is being opened, his love for the boy hovering over him spilling out, over the mattress and their entwined hands. They slide together and Blaine can’t stop kissing Kurt, swallowing the small sounds he keeps making.

 

~*~

 

“Hold my hand?”

 

Kurt’s grip is warm and familiar, Blaine takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Emptying his mind isn’t easy, but it is the only way to get this right. He needs to activate the flow of energy; pulling the lever as he did yesterday isn’t enough, that much is sure. One by one he pushes the thoughts aside until there are just the blood and the condensated energy rushing through him. If he concentrates hard enough, Blaine can feel the exact point when the flow gets irregular because of the wings’ plug. Kurt’s fingers tighten slightly around his and Blaine squeezes back.

 

It feels a bit like falling, his stomach flipping like that time he and Kurt rode a sled down the hill one snowy winter. The wings weigh down on his spine, but the more they move, the more energy gets pumped into them, the less they crush him to the ground. Kurt doesn’t let go of his hand until Blaine is too high in the air. Kurt’s fingers slip away and Blaine finally opens his eyes.

 

Kurt is smiling up at him and Blaine feels filled up to the brim - of love, of hope, of joy. The wings flap behind him and the sun shines down on him and on Kurt, painting the whole world brighter. The currents bring him a bit higher; now he can see Lima down below, the glass of the windows glistening in the light. It is overwhelming to see the world he and Kurt have lived in for so long from such a different point of view.

 

“How does it feel?”

 

The wind carries Kurt’s voice and Blaine looks down at him, beautiful like an angel in the sunlight.

 

“It feels like loving you.”

 

And nothing has ever been more true. To feel the air pushing at him, to finally forget the weight of the titanium hidden inside of him, makes Blaine feel alive in the same way Kurt’s love does. Kurt laughs, his eyes bright.

 

“Come back here. I need to kiss you right now.”

 

Blaine complies; the wings cooperate when he pulls at the metal strings and angle themselves properly. Kurt is a genius for having thought of them. Kurt takes his hands and pulls him closer as soon as Blaine’s feet touch the ground. Kurt tastes of the blackberry jam they ate for breakfast and Blaine easily directs the energy to fold the wings around Kurt. In their artificial cocoon they kiss until their lips feel numb with it.

  


**4**

**Of  train trips and shooting stars**

 

It is early, the sky still gray, and yet Lima’s train station is packed with people. Burt tries to squeeze himself between elbows and luggages and struggles to keep up with Blaine and Kurt as they walk towards their train. It isn’t easy to let them go, and he wonders if it would be easier with Elisabeth by his side. Kurt is the biggest gift life has ever given him, and Blaine is just like a son to him. He has been since the day Burt found him on the street.

 

~*~

 

_Blaine was so small and skinny, his breath irregular and raspy. Burt’s mind was racing as he brought the kid back home. It was clear that something was damaged and he could only hope the internal bleeding wasn’t too severe. Once at home he rushed in the operating room. Kurt looked at him wide-eyed, and Burt just shook his head and mouthed a “later” before closing the door behind himself. He couldn’t allow Kurt to see that, to see death so close again._

 

_The boy’s torso was badly bruised, purple and yellow blossoming on his skin. Bile rose up in Burt’s throat at the thought that someone hit the kid so hard to break his ribs. But he didn’t have time for anger. It was one of the most difficult operations Burt had ever attempted. It lasted four hours and when the last stitch was in place, he felt as though his heart had been cut in two. Just looking at the pale boy glowing azure on the operation table, Burt knew he would do everything in his power to protect him. And when the kid woke up and told him he was named Blaine and didn’t have a family, Burt knew he would do his best to be a father to him just as much as he was to Kurt._

 

~*~

 

“Dad, hurry up or we’ll miss the train.”

 

“There are still ten minutes left, kiddo.”

 

Kurt turns to glare at him and Burt chuckles. He watches as Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and leans forward to whisper in his ear. It hasn’t been easy for Burt to come to terms with the fact that Kurt is in love with someone; still, the fact that Blaine is the one has helped. Burt has watched the two of them grow impossibly close through the years. At first he had simply been happy because Kurt could have a brotherly figure. When their affection for each other became morphed into something more, Burt wondered what Elizabeth would have done, and he came to the conclusion that she would have given them her blessing. And so he did. With Blaine Kurt is safe and happy, his smiles open and his laughs true, and Burt know he’ll never stop being grateful for it.

 

“Be safe and behave. And Blaine, remember the drip every night.”

 

Blaine nods and Burt pulls him into a hug. Blaine has grown up into a healthy boy, but Burt will never forget how small and scrawny he was when they met for the first time.

 

“Take care of yourself and of Kurt, little bird.”

 

Blaine smiles up at him.

 

“Of course.”

 

Kurt hugs him tight and Burt holds him - his brave and smart kid, the biggest joy of his life.

 

“Don’t worry, dad, we’ll be back soon.”

 

Burt squeezes Kurt’s shoulder; he knows his son is going to make him proud. Burt can almost picture him and Blaine on the podium.

 

“Good luck.”

 

Kurt smiles before taking Blaine’s hand and hopping onto the train. The doors slide shut and Burt waves at them, his heart swelling. It is the first time his boys are going to be outside of Lima, and he knows once they get to see the world they won’t be happy to go back to a place where they can’t hold hands in the streets and people sneer at them for who they are. As the train starts to move out of the station, Burt thinks of those artificial wings his kids have made, and he is happy at the thought that one day they’ll be able to fly away for real and build a beautiful life for the two of them.

 

~*~

 

Kurt chuckles as Blaine rushes down the corridor, suitcase bumping against his legs as he goes.

 

“Pay attention.”

 

Blaine turns and playfully rolls his eyes. It is their first time on a train, and Blaine has always been like an over excited puppy when he discovers something new. They find a free compartment and Kurt sits down, keeping an eye on their luggage as Blaine wanders off exploring. Out of the window meadows have taken the place of Lima’s grey buildings and they seem to flow in front of Kurt’s eyes.

 

“I’ve found our roomette. It’s number 21.”

 

Kurt turns and smiles up at Blaine, who promptly plops down in the seat next to his.

 

“It is kind of weird, isn’t it?”

 

Blaine tilts his head to the side, the train rattles along the tracks.

 

“It is, but it is also kind of awesome. Plus you are here.”

 

Kurt reaches for Blaine’s hand. They are alone for the moment so he quickly brings it up to his lips and presses a kiss on Blaine’s knuckles.

 

“That isn’t fair. Now I want to kiss you.”

 

Blaine pouts and Kurt think he is so adorable it should be illegal.

 

~*~

 

It’s early in the afternoon when the train stops for the first time. Blaine leans over Kurt to pull down the window and take a look outside. He smells of his cologne and of the apples they had for lunch.

 

“Seems we are in  a place called Westerville. Oh, look, babe.”

 

Kurt puts down the book he was reading and leans out of the window with Blaine. There are some kids on the platform, laughing and shouting as they say goodbye to their parents.

 

“Do you think they are going to participate in the contest too?” Blaine asks.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Let’s hope they are nice.”

 

Kurt nudges Blaine’s shoulder with his, pressing closer to feel Blaine’s solidity and warmth. Kurt knows what his boyfriend is thinking. They have never managed to make friends in Lima; the other kids in school didn’t have anything to give except for insults and hard looks. He and Blaine had their own little world, and it was safe and happy and Kurt didn’t need anything else.

,

They sit back down and Kurt holds his breath as the kids they saw on the platform walk down the corridor. Their voices are loud, one of them is singing. Her voice is strong and sure, and Kurt shivers despite the warm air stuffing the compartment. Someone, a boy, says something along the lines of “quit it, Rachel, or they’ll throw us off the train.”

 

Blaine turns towards him and his voice is filled with awe when he speaks.

 

“She had a nice voice, uh?”

 

Kurt nods, because it is definitely true. But it is also true that her voice lacks the warmth and depth of Blaine’s. Technicality is one thing, but the way Blaine makes Kurt’s very heart tremble when he sings is a completely different story.

 

~*~

“Hi.”

 

Kurt jolts awake from his slumber and turns around to look at the boy standing in the compartment’s entry. The guy smiles at him and then at Blaine, who answers with an uncertain “hi”.

 

“I am Mike. I saw you earlier and thought you seemed kind of cool.”

 

Kids have called them many names - weirdos, fairies, violets - but no one has ever defined them as “cool”. Kurt glances at Blaine and finds that he is smiling, shy but true.

 

“I am Blaine and he is Kurt.”

 

Mike grins even wider and tilts back the hat he is wearing.

 

“Do you want to join us? Our compartment is just down the wagon.”

 

Kurt feels the muscles in his back tense up. Should they trust this stranger? The familiar weight of Blaine’s hand on his knee startles him and Kurt snaps out of his thoughts. Blaine’s eyes are huge, his lips curved in a small smile. He’d like to go, Kurt can read it clearly on his features. Kurt nods minutely and Blaine squeezes his knee a bit tighter.

 

“We’d love to.”

 

Kurt keeps close to Blaine, the backs of their hands brushing as they walk down the corridor. The train rolls and Kurt’s stomach still goes with it; it’ll take a while to get used to this. Blaine seems completely unaffected as he chats with Mike. It turns out he and his friends are all students at a school for inventors in Westerville, and Kurt wonders what it would have been like to attend one of those. Then he thinks about his dad and the hours spent copying his movements in order to fix a prosthetic hand in the best way possible and Kurt thinks he wouldn’t change his life for the world. Mike is nice, though, his smile bright and sincere as he asks them about Lima and about the work they do at the workshop.

 

Even though Mike has done his best to put them at ease, Kurt still holds his breath when they stop in front of the compartment’s door. He doesn’t know what to expect and life has taught him to be careful. Two girls are sitting by the window, heads bent close as they chat, one blond boy is playing cards with a lanky friend of his. Everyone turns towards them and Kurt almost reaches for Blaine’s hand, stopping himself just in time. After what feels like an eternity, everyone is smiling and wishing their hellos. The girl with the beautiful voice stands up and walks up to them.

 

“Hello. I’m Rachel Berry. It is nice to meet you.”

 

Mike rolls his eyes playfully. The atmosphere is light and happy and Kurt can feel his back relaxing. Blaine is smiling so beautifully as he shakes hands with the blond boy, Sam.

 

They sit down on the floor and Mike rummages into a backpack, coming up with two fruit juices for them. It feels nice and cosy and Kurt relaxes even more into the conversation.

 

“So you two are on your own?”

 

The pretty Asian girl - Tina, if Kurt remembers well - is looking at them wide eyed and Kurt shrugs.

 

“Dad couldn’t leave our workshop back at home so there’s only us.”

 

Blaine scoots closer to Kurt, shoulder pressing against his. Kurt smiles at him without thinking, the defenses he usually keeps up around other people lowered by the dizzy knowledge that he has embarked on the first adventure of his whole life with the boy he is hopelessly in love with.

 

“Are you...are you together?”

 

There’s genuine curiosity shining in Tina’s brown eyes. Kurt tries to fish out words, he truly does, but nothing comes out of his slightly parted lips. Blaine shifts beside him and his voice is firm when he speaks.

 

“Yes, we are.”

 

It is the first time they state it out loud, for the world to hear and see. Back in Lima only Burt knows about the two of them; that’s always been the way to keep themselves safe. Now, sitting on the train’s floor, Blaine sitting straight and holding his head high, Kurt feels dizzy both with worry and with love for this brave and beautiful boy.

 

Tina’s smile surprises Kurt. It is sweet and her eyes seem to sparkle with it.

 

“For how long have you been together? For me and Mike it’s two years.”

 

Mike nods beside her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Blaine is looking at him and Kurt clears his throat. His voice comes out a bit unsure, but it sounds deafening to Kurt’s own ears.

 

“It has been a year now.”

 

The other kids go back to their chatting as easily as breathing and Kurt still can’t believe this has really happened. Blaine leans forward, his breath warm over Kurt’s ear.

 

“One day I’ll tell the world I want to marry you.”

 

Kurt wonders if it is possible for his heart to grow wings and fly right of his chest. He fumbles for Blaine’s hand and holds it tight. He doesn’t lower his voice to speak this time.

 

“I’ll say yes.”

 

The smile on Blaine’s face would make the sun pale.

 

~*~

 

They can’t afford to have dinner in the train’s restaurant with the others, so Kurt fixes them some sandwiches with the ingredients he has brought from home. The sun has already set when he and Blaine make their way towards the back of the train. Blaine grins at him before pulling open the wagon’s door. For an instant the wind knocks the air out of Kurt’s lungs and he reaches for Blaine’s hand.

 

“Don’t be scared, love.”

 

Blaine’s voice is sure and strong in the night and Kurt takes a deep breath. Once again the simple presence of Blaine by his side makes something quiet and settle inside of Kurt.

 

“I am not scared if you are here.”

 

They kiss with the wind tugging at their hair, they kiss under the velvety blanket of the sky. When they break apart the stars are somehow closer and brighter. One seems to detach itself from the blue velvet above and Kurt holds his breath as it falls, fleeing white, before disappearing.

 

“Blaine, did you see that?”

 

“They call them shooting stars, I think.”

 

“It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

 

Blaine pulls him close, wrapping him in a hug. He smells of citrus and of Blaine.

 

“You are my gorgeous shooting star.”

 

And it is cheesy, like a line from those romantic movies Miss Beiste likes to watch, but it is also so Blaine-like it makes Kurt’s heart sing in his chest like a small happy bird.

  


**5**

**Of chasing the sky and onyx birds**

 

Blaine loves being on a train. It is such a weird feeling, moving even when he is sitting down or lying on the bed in the roomette. Speaking of which, being able to have a space only for him and Kurt is the best thing in the whole universe. The bed is much smaller than the one they have at home, which means they sleep pressed together, Kurt’s body warm against Blaine’s back. It feels safe and right and Blaine wakes up in the morning with the need to crawl right under Kurt’s skin. It is nice to enjoy each other - lips and hands and whispered moans - in the morning before getting up and joining the others in their compartment.

 

It still astounds him how accepting they all have been of him and Kurt. Rachel seems to have developed a peculiar love for Kurt, and Blaine can’t describe the warm feeling spreading through him at the sight of Kurt making friends, sitting by Rachel’s side and singing or chatting. Blaine has always known Kurt was born to be loved. How could people not see how special he was?

Spending time with the New Directions - they said their professor chose the name for them - is fun and it is a bit like breathing fresh air. Maybe Burt was right; they just needed to spread their wings and take a look at the world outside Lima.

 

They spend the last day of the trip playing card and word games, singing old songs and eating the pastries Tina’s grandmother made for the trip. The more the Capital gets closer, the more Blaine needs to be close to Kurt. His nerves keep frizzling with bottled up energy and Blaine can’t help thinking about the wings bundled in a wagon at the tail of the train. They haven’t talked about them with the New Directions, as they haven’t told them about the drip Blaine needs to slip in his vein every night. It is nice to be making friends for the first time, but there are certain things which are too delicate to tell, some things which have to be protected because they are precious and frail, just like Pav the day Blaine brought him back home.

 

“Hey, look!”

 

Sam is standing by the window and is basically vibrating on the spot. Kurt leans against him and Blaine instinctively wraps an arm around his shoulders. Kurt’s breath is warm against his neck.

 

“It’s the Capital!”

 

Mike has joined Sam and is positively shouting. Blaine feels enough at ease to press a kiss to Kurt’s cheek in front of the others, before standing up and walking up to the window. The train is running through green fields and canals which reflect the sapphire of the sky and standing right on the line of the horizon there are the shining towers of the Capital. Blaine presses his nose against the glass and squints his eyes. They are still too far from the city, but he knows there are flags flapping on the rooftops and airships waiting to take off from the open space right behind the town. Blaine has read so much about the Capital, he and Kurt fantasizing about trips and futures and shared lives.

 

They spend the following half hour organizing their belongings and if Blaine is even more clingy than usual, never letting go of Kurt’s hand unless it is absolutely necessary, Kurt doesn’t say anything about it. He simply squeezes back and Blaine’s heart is filled to the brim with love and gratitude for that.

 

When the train pulls into the station, Blaine can hear his heart drumming in his ears. This is real; tomorrow he and Kurt are going to stand in Central Square, in front of hundreds of people. Two boys from a small and forgotten town with nothing but their love and Blaine’s crippled body to hold on to. It is terrifying and exciting at the same time. Kurt’s chest rises and falls quickly and Blaine knows Kurt’s heartbeat matches is. As the sound of the brakes drill in his skull, Blaine leans closer to Kurt, enough to whisper into his ear.

 

“It’s me and you, babe. We’ll make it.”

 

Kurt smiles, small and unsure, like a dew drop on a blade of grass. He presses closer anyway and Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt’s waist, holding on until the train stops and they have to get off.

 

It is sad to say goodbye to the others; it might have been only a couple of days, but to feel accepted like that meant the world to Blaine, and that’s why he hugs Tina a bit longer than necessary and blinks a bit too fast to chase away the tears when Mike wraps him up in a hug. Friendship with people who aren’t Kurt is new and unexpected. And it’s even nicer to watch as Sam hugs Kurt and he doesn’t pull back, his arms coming up to hold Sam back awkwardly. Before parting ways they promise to meet in the square the following day.

 

Once the New Directions turn the corner, their invention loaded on a cart trailing behind them, Blaine takes a deep breath. The air in the city isn’t as pure as the air of the hills, but isn’t as filled with coal smoke as Lima’s either.

 

“We’d better find a place to sleep, honey.”

 

Blaine nods; Tina told them Mr Shue, their inventions and music teacher,  had booked some rooms in a hotel not far from the city center. He and Kurt, instead, don’t have a clue about where they’ll sleep. But the sky is clear about their heads, life bustles around them, and Blaine doesn’t feel so scared anymore.

 

They end up staying in an inn nearby the station. The room is small and the bed old and creaky, but it is more than enough. It is enough for him to take care of Kurt, to kiss away the nerves and the uncertainties, and enough for Kurt to make Blaine unravel one lick after the other. Before falling asleep, with Kurt wrapped safe and firm around him, Blaine slips in his drip feed and looks at the wings resting on a makeshift scaffolding. As energy sloshes along his veins, down to the titanium bits of his body, Blaine wonders if it would be too much to shout “I love Kurt Hummel” from where he’ll be tomorrow, high over the roofs of the Capital.

 

~*~

 

“Just...remember not to push yourself too much.”

 

Kurt isn’t looking at him and Blaine doesn’t like it. He needs to look into Kurt’s eyes and see the sky reflected there. Nothing would seem so scary if he could do that, Blaine is sure of that. But Kurt focuses on adjusting the buckles on Blaine’s chest, gaze focused on his fingers as they move.

 

“I will, just...look at me?”

 

Kurt’s fingers curl tighter around the leather.

 

“If I do I might not let you go out there.”

 

Blaine lifts his hand and gently cups Kurt’s face.

 

“You wouldn’t do that and you know why?”

 

Kurt finally lifts his gaze, eyes even more azure than the sky.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because this silly little bird belongs to you and you know he will always come back.”

 

Kurt shakes his head, a smile quirking up his lips. Before Blaine can lean forward and kiss him, Kurt takes a step back, rummaging in his back pocket.

 

“What are you doing, babe?”

 

“Close your eyes.”

 

Blaine complies happily; he loves surprises, especially if it is Kurt who makes them. The thing that Kurt presses to his palm is smooth and cool, like a cobblestone found at the bottom of a stream. Blaine waits patiently for Kurt to tell him he can look. In the space of one breath the scent of Kurt’s cologne is stronger, warm air caressing Blaine’s cheek. Kurt’s lips are soft and the kiss is too quick for Blaine’s liking, but then Kurt is telling him he can open his eyes and Blaine hastes to comply.

 

Shining up at him in the half light of the tent they are in there’s one of the two matching brooches Blaine bought on a spring evening more than a year ago. When Blaine lifts his gaze Kurt is pinning his own brooch to the lapel of his jacket.

 

“Kurt...”

 

Kurt’s eyes are a bit clearer, a bit deeper now.

 

“I thought like this I could be up there with you.”

 

Everything inside of Blaine feels suspended in ether as love floods him. Love for the beautiful and caring boy who wears a small onyx bird right on his heart. The brave and brilliant boy Blaine wants to marry one day. The wings’ plates clang together as Blaine closes the distance between him and Kurt and pulls him into a hug.

 

~*~

 

The square where the contest is held is the widest Blaine has ever seen. Elegant buildings are lined up along the sides, the floor is covered in cobblestones, and flags flap and wave at them from the roofs and the towers. Blaine has the weird feeling that he is immersed right at the center of the world.

 

They manage to spot the New Directions, but there are too many people crowding the place to reach them. Every time they move, Blaine’s wings end up hitting someone. The wings have already drawn attention to them; people keep throwing suspicious or mocking glances in their direction, just as the guy at the registration desk did in the morning. Blaine knows they must be quite the sight, two boys on their own, one of them with a pair of artificial wings on his shoulders, but he keeps his head high. He and Kurt have every right to be here, to participate and to win even.

 

One chubby man climbs on the podium and the microphone screeches over the voices of the people holding their breath.

 

“Welcome to the annual edition of the contest for mechanics and inventors. We hope to see wonders and to have a brilliant winner!”

 

Blaine is practically vibrating with energy as one after the other the participants are called and go to stand on the stage with their invention - mechanical birds that sing, dolls with clocks for hearts and floating lights trapped under glass. They have never had enough money to go to the circus when it passed by Lima, but Blaine has always imagined it to be like this, vibrant with music and colors.

 

“It’s beautiful.”

 

Kurt’s voice is awed as he looks at some sort of huge kaleidoscope that is projecting flashes of color all around the place. Blaine thinks he’d gladly burn his hands bottling up sunlight if it meant never failing to make Kurt smile.

 

When the chubby showman calls the New Directions’ name, Blaine and Kurt whoop loudly. It’s Rachel who bows to the crowd and uncovers their inventions. The glass pipes and the copper cogs catch the light. Mr Shue presses a button and lowers a couple of levers and the whole thing sets in motion, steam coming out from a small chimney placed on the top. Music starts low, rising and rising as images start to move on some kind of glass placed at the center of the machine. Blaine shivers when Rachel begins to sing and then Tina and Sam and Mike, their voices effortlessly weaving together.

 

The machine seems to catch their voices, record them instantly and then blow them out again, rich as the originals. Blaine sways with the rhythm and smiles when Kurt reaches for his hand, swinging it between their bodies. They haven’t danced much in their lives; in Lima there aren’t many places where two boys could get away unscathed after having danced together. But sometimes Kurt puts on his mother’s old records and spins Blaine around the room, careful not to trip on books and abandoned tweezers. Blaine loves it, how their bodies become one with the music and Kurt never stops smiling.

 

Once the demonstration is over, Blaine claps so hard his hands hurt as the crowd cheers. If the New Directions were to win and he and Kurt to lose, Blaine wouldn’t mind much. Their new friends were amazing up there. The next participants are a blur of ridiculous and useless inventions and awe-inducing ones. The more time passes, the more Blaine’s nerves seem to burn with the tension; now and then Kurt turns and just looks at him, as though words don’t make much sense anymore.

 

“Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel from Lima.”

 

Blaine can’t hear anything except for the thundering of blood in his ears as he follows Kurt towards the stage. His wings keep hitting people and he keeps apologizing. It feels a bit like being a fish out of water, but Kurt is walking in front of him, broad shoulders and straight back, and that is reassuring in itself, so Blaine takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. He keeps his gaze focused on Kurt’s nape as they climb the steps and walk up to the showman.

 

“Oh but you are so young! All on your own?”

 

Kurt’s voice is clear like a summer’s night sky when he answers.

 

“Yes, but we aren’t kids anymore, you know?”

 

Blaine blinks, his heart swelling with pride. His fingers are sure when he pulls the lever and the pain is almost bearable when the wings connect with his internal energy system. Blaine looks straight at Kurt; the people waiting and looking all around don’t matter in the least. All that matters is the way Kurt brings his hand up to touch the brooch on his lapel, the way he mouths “I love you” only for Blaine to see.

 

The whole crowd seems to fall silent as the wings start to flap. Blaine tries to ignore everything except the bubbling of energy along his titanium veins. His temples throb with the effort to direct it all to the wings’ port. Then there’s a sharp tug and Blaine’s stomach drops as his feet start to leave the ground. It is astounding how close this brand new sensation comes to the familiar and precious feeling of Kurt’s fingers on him, stroking and caressing and mending.

 

Blaine opens his eyes and for an instant he forgets how to breathe. The wings keep carrying him higher, flap by flap, and the hundreds of people gathered in the square tilt back their heads to look at him. The sun shines over the slate shingles and it reminds Blaine of all the afternoons and evenings spent with Kurt on top of McKinley Down, looking at Lima stretched out at their feet. Blaine needs to look at Kurt, so he lowers his gaze and Kurt is looking straight at him, eyes sparkling. Blaine’s heart swings back and forth, warmth enveloping him like a mother’s hug. He taps his fingertip against the smooth surface of the brooch and watches in awe as a smile blossoms on Kurt’s lips.

 

When they tested the wings, Blaine didn’t go as far as flying around; he just let them pull him up and up before the moment to land came. But now they are here, in front of people who would have never thought this possible, and they need the money to help Burt. Blaine knows he has to dare more this time, and so he pulls at the wires Kurt added to ease the directioning process. The plates move obediently and silently and the hydraulic system pumps some more energy into them.

 

Blaine traces slow wide circles over the stage, chuckling when the showman’s mouth falls open. He  is sure he’ll never be able to describe properly what it feels like - the wind, the lightness of his mismatched body, the constant caress of Kurt’s gaze following him.

 

The landing is a bit less gracious than last time on the hill and Blaine stumbles a bit, still dizzy because of the flight and the outflow of energy. Kurt runs up to him, his hands gentle as they cup Blaine’s face, thumbs brushing soothingly against his cheekbones.

 

“You were fantastic.”

 

Blaine’s heart swells. He always wants Kurt to be proud of him.

 

“You made these wings, Kurt. For me. You are way more than fantastic.”

 

Kurt shakes his head and bites his lower lip. A shower of sparks falls down Blaine’s spine at the thought that Kurt wants to kiss him. He can read it in Kurt’s eyes. But the presenter is patting on his shoulder and congratulating them and can they please leave the stage to the next participant now? Blaine lets Kurt guide him down the wooden stairs; the New Directions are all there, cheering and smiling and Blaine feels his eyes water. Kurt squeezes his waist gently and steps aside to let Tina and Mike hug Blaine.

 

Once Kurt has helped Blaine out of the harness, they decided to leave the square. There are still many other participants who have to show their inventions to the audience and Blaine knows that waiting makes Kurt nervous. He also knows that Kurt has always wanted to see the Capital and Blaine has promised him many times that they would walk together along elegant streets one day and that they would find their own personal coffee shop in the big city.

 

As they try not to lose themselves in the network of main and side streets, Sam babbles away about how cool the wings are and how did they even managed to build them?

 

“It’s all thanks to Kurt. He is my special genius.”

 

Kurt nudges his shoulder before taking Blaine’s hand.

 

“That is not entirely true. I might be a genius, but you are a very special little bird.”

 

“Aww aren’t you the cutest thing?”

 

Tina is smiling at them, the wind tugging at her hair and Mike nods at her words.

 

It’s Kurt who spots it, a small coffee shop with a couple of tables out on the pavement in front of the door. It’s called “Golden sparrow” and Blaine instantly loves it. Inside the scent of coffee is rich and strong. Blaine has always associated coffee with  Kurt. With the way his lips curl when it is too bitter, the way the foam gets caught on his upper lip sometimes, the way he tastes when they kiss after a date at the Lima Bean.

 

They sit outside, crowded around a small table, frappuccinos and frappes in their hands. Blaine loves the easy chatter, the happiness that settles on everything like a comforting blanket as Kurt’s thigh presses against his and Kurt steals a sip of his hazelnut latte.

 

~*~

 

When they wander back to the square a couple of hours later, the contest is almost over.  There’s music playing from the speakers and a woman on the stage proudly shows a mechanical dog that can’t walk. Blaine’s heart is beating too fast and he has to gulp down air more often than not. Kurt keeps his arm around Blaine’s shoulder. It is grounding and the wait is slightly more bearable because of it.

 

Then a trumpet is playing, the sound piercing the air and the clamour dies down as the chubby showman gets back behind the microphone. Kurt’s arm tightens around him and Blaine presses his nose against the curve of Kurt’s neck, his scent always manages to calm him down.

 

“It is always wonderful to see so many people gathered here, bringing their ideas and beautiful inventions. It wasn’t easy to choose one winner this year. But it is true that one invention more than the others left us speechless. Both the participants are very young, but talented as few people I’ve ever had the pleasure to met. Ladies and gentlemen, our winners are Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel from Lima.”

 

For an instant Blaine feels frozen to the spot, but then Kurt’s arms wrap around him and he finds himself pressed against Kurt’s strong chest, Kurt’s lips moving against his temple. Blaine can’t hear the words, he just feels the warmth of Kurt’s breath on his skin and the skittering of his own heart.

 

“We won.”

 

Blaine mumbles it against the lapel of Kurt’s jacket, but Kurt must have heard him because he is tilting Blaine’s chin up and leaning impossibly close even though they are in public.

 

“We did.”

 

Kurt’s eyes are wide and clear and Blaine has the feeling he could drown in the love that he sees in them. Standing on his toes, Blaine closes the distance between him and Kurt and brushes their lips together. It’s quick because they are already risking standing into each other’s arms.

 

Kurt disentangles himself and takes Blaine hand, dragging him towards the stage. Blaine grips Kurt’s hand and follows, his heart hammering against his ribcage. When Kurt reaches the top of the stairs he turns and smiles down at him. To Blaine that single smile feels like a promise - we will build great things together, I love you and I always will, I’ll never stop giving you wings.

 

The presenter gives them a wary look, but it doesn’t matter in the least - the sun is shining over their heads, their new friends are cheering in the front line, smiles big on their faces, and the paper of the check is smooth under his fingertips. Blaine feels as though the world is in his and Kurt’s hands and standing on the stage he can almost picture the future - a small house, a kid, kissing Kurt every single day of his life.

 

~*~

 

Mike pushes the door open with his foot and comes in carrying a tray filled with drinks and pastries.

 

“Where did you even find those?”

 

“Let’s say Sam and I were pretty stealthy in the restaurant wagon.”

 

Rachel laughs, brushing an unruly stand of her out of her face.

 

“You mean you managed to convince Mister Shue...”

 

Mike makes a face but hands her a bottle of beer anyway.

 

“You spoil all the fun, Rach.”

 

She shrugs, leaning closer to Kurt, and Blaine smiles at the scene. This already feels a bit like home, and a sharp pang crosses Blaine’s chest. He wonders if it that’s what happens when one heartstring snaps.

 

“We’ll miss you guys.”

 

Kurt looks at him, eyes clouded with worry and Blaine shrugs. Kurt knows how to read every single movement of his body and Blaine knows he understands why he felt the need to say it out loud. Mike’’s arm is heavy on his shoulders and Sam’s hand ruffles his hair.

 

“This is not a goodbye, man. Westerville is pretty close to Lima, you know?”

 

Blaine tilts his head back to look at Mike, he is smiling, his eyes soft.

 

“Thank you...man.”

 

“Hey, he said man! Finally!”

 

Sam fistpumps in the air and Mike claps. Blaine simply looks at the incredulous smile on Kurt’s face.

 

~*~

 

Once they have wished goodbye to the New Directions - Blaine leaning out of the window and Kurt holding him by the hem of his lapel as the train started to move - they sit back down, curled around each other. Blaine rests his head against Kurt’s shoulder, hand splayed on his chest.

 

“I still can’t believe it.”

 

The vibrations of Kurt’s voice echo through Blaine, it feels like a special kind of caress.

 

“I knew you could make it, babe.”

 

Kurt shifts under him and Blaine lifts his gaze to look at him.

 

“We made it together.”

 

Blaine nods, his fingers grabbing the velvety lapel of Kurt’s jacket to pull him down into a kiss. After all this time, kissing Kurt still feels like flying. It always will, Blaine is sure of that.

 

“I want to spend my whole life with you.”

 

And there’s no hesitation whatsoever in his voice. How could there be, when Kurt smiles and breathes and is right next to him?

 

Kurt kisses him slow and tender, tongue searching and sending sparks down Blaine’s spine with every stroke. When they break apart, Blaine feels suspended, as though gravity has ceased to have a proper meaning.

 

Outside the window the sky is dark, another train passes by, his windows like yellow squares hanging against the black wall of the night. Blaine blinks, fishing for the right words, even though it is hard because the love living inside his chest is too big to be contained in syllables.

 

“More than your dad...more than Burt it was you who fixed me, Kurt. You who loved me despite everything. You...no one will ever be like you.”

 

Kurt cups Blaine’s face, palms warm against his cheeks.

 

“I will marry you one day, Blaine Anderson.”

 

Blaine doesn’t answer; he simply climbs on Kurt’s lap, leaning closer until their noses brush and Kurt’s eyes are all that he sees.

 

“I’ll say I do. I would until the end of time.”

 

Outside the night flows, the moon high in the sky as two boys kiss, pressed close together, hearts singing the same song. Outside, stars twinkle up above as a boy made of flesh and titanium thanks the love of his life for having taught him how to fly.

 

_The end_


End file.
